


Distant Shores

by FarenMaddox



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle, xxxHoLic
Genre: M/M, prompt roundup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarenMaddox/pseuds/FarenMaddox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of prompts for the Kurogane/Doumeki pairing that I did on my Tumblr account a while back.  A handful of AUs and one canon fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the river

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Tumblr user reshki -   
> "doumeki is the millennia-old guardian of the doors of death. kurogane is a revolutionary fighting a war that spans decades. every year or so he gets injured and finds himself at death's door, where he gets to know the guardian through quiet conversation. every time, he fights too hard for death to keep hold of him and recovers, and returns to the land of the living. the guardian finds himself strangely fascinated with the one mortal death cannot seem to claim."

“Are you ever gonna retire?”

It's the kind of toss-away comment that ought to be light enough to float away before reaching an audience, but the tone of voice says something else, something like that it is glad to be heard by this recipient.

“Kurogane,” he greets the warrior. “what is it this time?”

He's going gray now, and he limps his way over the broken rocky Path that leads up from the River. His foot in its heavy leather boot is dragging. He spins around and puts his back to the wall and sinks down with a sigh. The leg stretches out in front of him.

“Stabbed in the thigh.” His voice is fluttery and cold. the guardian wonders if this time, maybe this time, he will have to open the gate. “It's putrefied, I think. I know I was going all hot and cold. Now I'm here.”

“not likely to stay,” the guardian observes. “you never are.”

“I have things to do,” the warrior grunts. “Unlike you.”

the guardian indicates the River with his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, you've told me before. Thousands of souls streaming in, and you have to check that none of them are trying to sneak in to rescue someone.”

he nods, and leans upon his staff. he is immortal and non-corporeal but that doesn't mean he doesn't have an image to maintain. A soul could come along any minute.

Kurogane has tipped his head forward. His breath knifes in and out of him. the guardian thinks that if wounds could bleed in this place, Kurogane's breath would slice his throat wide open.

“Hey, Doumeki.”

It is not the guardian's true name, but it is the name Kurogane calls him by. It was several times ago, when they did not know each other so well. When Kurogane asked, and he said that he had no name that could be spoken by a living man but would not at all mind if Kurogane could think of another that was suitable.

“You ever let someone in?”

“i did, once,” he says, not truly surprised by the question and not ashamed of his answer. A dereliction of duty that he is incapable of feeling remorse for. A failing on his part, likely. But he does not care. “and i let her carry her love back through this very gate.”

Kurogane nods and is silent. He is sweating in the living world. the guardian cannot see it but he can feel the damp and heat of a raging fever an an echo against his palms, which are also an echo.

“Kurogane,” he says. Pauses. Thinks. “there are other warriors. many, certainly. whole generations of them by now. you were still a child the first time you arrived here.”

Kurogane's breath is so loud that he cannot hear the River.

“True. So?”

“you do not have to go back,” he says carefully.

Will he open the gate this time? Kurogane in the other world is pale skin and shivering and sweat and heated red rot in his sliced-open meat.

Red eyes squint up at him. “What if I didn't?”

he lifts one hand from his staff and gestures at the gate. Kurogane should know.

“I wouldn't be allowed to stay here, right?”

The thought had not occurred to him. he thinks. “no.”

“I have someone to go back to,” Kurogane says quietly. “Someone who would follow me if I didn't come back. He'd come living, to bring me back.” He runs fingers through short-cropped hair that is black and gray like light on River stones. “You'd probably let him in, too.”

The thought of this someone is pain, but easy to brush aside. It is the same pain of watching Kurogane breathe. Things of a world that is not Here that he is not supposed to spend time with. Things he is not meant to understand. Things that are only important when sometimes Kurogane comes Here.

“I'm tired,” Kurogane says. “Tired enough to want to rest here. But not that tired yet. I have men who need me.”

he nods. Rests on his staff.

“You don't mind if I stay with you for a while, though.”

“no. i do not.”

“Tell me,” Kurogane whispers through gritted teeth. “Tell me I'll go back.”

he feels imagined heat on his imagined hands and does not know. But Kurogane wants to go back, and he is fighting to go back. To Someone. For Something.

“it's not like you need me to tell you,” he says. “you've been here at least ten times. get your shit together.”

Kurogane laughs, sharp in his chest, and then they both know that he will not go through the gate this time.

 

 


	2. loves me, loves me not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Tumblr user dorotheian -  
> "the Tsubasa gang drinking with Watanuki and co. and then goading Kurogane into a "strength contest." Kurogane ends up picking Doumeki up as the finale. Doumeki is so surprised and has this uncertain "uh...but actually maybe I do like..." shy tentative admiring reaction. The crush carries over into the next day, and Kurogane notices. Something very sweet happens?"

It couldn't be the sake.

He knew how much sake it took to make his head start spinning, and it was a hell of a lot. He had drank until he found that limit, and he never drank that much again.

So it was definitely not the sake.

If he had to chalk it up to anything, it would be the same thing it always was: his family. He had been embarrassing himself repeatedly since the moment they came together. He wound up in the most _ridiculous_ situations because of them.

So really, the fact that this was happening was just because he was so used to this by now. He never noticed he'd tipped right over the edge of Embarrassment Cliff until he was already walking through Acceptance Canyon at the bottom.

It had started simple. Some stupidly serious comment that Syaoran made about everyone in the room being so strong. The silence had been too long, and Fai had filled it with a joke about him surely meaning that they should have an arm-wrestling contest.

Kurogane, of course, was the only one who took him up on it and Fai, of course, only lasted roughly two seconds before he swooped in and kissed Kurogane on the cheek _in front of people_ which had led to a shouting match and . . . well . . .

There was not an _exact_ or _easily defined_ path that had led to Kurogane showing off in front of the shop keeper and the shop keeper's, well, keeper. All he knew was that it had culminated in this moment.

This was the moment in which he must grudgingly lift himself out of the dirt and begin the slow trudge through Acceptance Canyon until he managed to find the tranquil Oasis of Everybody Forgetting It Ever Happened.

He had just been challenged to pick up the heaviest thing in the room. There was just the seven of them, five men and two pork buns. A low eating table that couldn't weigh much more than the two pork buns combined, a few empty cups and an empty bottle of sake.

He spent a moment trying to figure if the Doumeki guy or Fai would be heavier.

In the end, he just decided that since he already knew how much Fai weighed, there was only one way to find out. He rounded the table and faced the quiet man with a look on his face that he hoped would adequately communicate 'if you say a word I will throw you out the window.'

He sort of didn't expect the response to be _blushing_.

Doumeki-san stood up, silent and with a hint of a mocking smile, acting composed. But pink-cheeked.

Maybe in _his_ case, it really was the sake.

So, Kurogane took a breath, braced himself, and lifted Doumeki-san over his head.

“There,” he grunted at Fai. “If you're happy now?”

Fai was leaning back on his elbows, doing that thing where he exposed his stomach to the world like it was a treasure they should be privileged to lay eyes on. His smile was the alcohol-tinged cat smile. “Very much,” he agreed. “You win. Or does that mean I win?”

Kurogane let the still-composed Doumeki drop from his hands, but only to catch him in his arms, the way he might have done for a little kid. This apparently startled the other man, who grabbed at Kurogane's neck. Kurogane grunted and let Doumeki's legs fall so he could stand back up. It took the guy a minute before he actually let go.

Still blushing. Sort of staring at him.

Oh, and here he'd thought the universe was toying with him _before_ now. This _had to be the sake._

 

* * *

 

He woke early the next morning, as always, and went out to the porch to watch the sun rise for lack of anything better to do. Doumeki wasn't far behind.

Doumeki said nothing as he set a tray with teapot and tea cups down on the porch and sat to the other side of it.

“Thanks,” Kurogane muttered, picking up a cup and not even remotely interested in starting a conversation about last night.

“Watanuki won't wake up before eleven,” was the other man's response. “But if you can wait that long, he'll make breakfast.”

“Nice gig you got here,” Kurogane observed. “Somebody else cooking all your meals.”

Doumeki's smirk was back.

“If I get hungry, I'll cook.”

“You cook?”

“Didn't used to. Learned how to do my fair share of the work.”

Doumeki sipped his tea and said nothing.

“You got classes to teach today?”

“It's Sunday,” was the response.

Which was apparently an answer to the question, because of course Kurogane could somehow magically know whether or not people taught classes in this world on a Sunday.

“So, no. All that strength but no brains,” he drawled.

“So when did you turn into Fai D. Fluorite?”

Doumeki suddenly started looking at his teacup. Like it was the most interesting teacup in the world.

“You and Fai-san are close,” he said.

“Yeah,” Kurogane grunted, because _obviously_.

“But are you _close_?” he asked his teacup.

“What the hell does that even mean?” Kurogane replied, and then looked over and saw that the blush was back.

Okay, so it was definitely not the sake.

“Uh, look,” Kurogane said awkwardly. Fuck, maybe there was words in this world to describe him that Mokona would somehow translate for him. Not interested, but not because of any reason, just because he didn't _get_ that way. And yet somehow still in some kind of lifetime partnership with his best friend, who seemed to understand why their relationship wasn't physical without Kurogane having to explain it, and seemed not to mind.

“So you are close,” Doumeki grinned.

It pissed Kurogane off, that grin. That sort of cheesy, sleazy way of blowing it off so Doumeki could avoid his own embarrassment, his own weakness.

“Look, I don't do physical relationships,” he snapped.

Doumeki looked like Kurogane had slapped him or something.

“But, uh, you know, if I did . . . You're a great guy.”

They finished their tea before either of them spoke again. They both put their cups down at the same time, and Doumeki just met his eyes for a long few seconds before saying, eyebrows raised,

“Yeah?”

Kurogane shrugged. “Yeah.”

The guy had a genuinely warm smile when he wasn't mocking anyone. Kurogane didn't know how long he and his family would be staying this time, but he vowed then and there that he'd give Doumeki a reason to smile like that at least once more before they had to leave.


	3. kevlar vests aren't that expensive, you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Tumblr user wakeupt -  
> "how about classic bodyguard au! Kurogane is hired to shadow this renowned priest's teenaged grandson, and at first it looks like it'll be a piece of cake, if not terribly boring, cause the kid seems serious and responsible and the like, but then Kurogane learns that Doumeki's two best friends attract enough trouble to potentially level a small country and Doumeki is crazy selfless for them, and maybe this assignment will be more troublesome and exciting than anticipated"

“Kurogane, this is my grandson Shizuka. Shizuka, this is Kurogane, the man we discussed yesterday. He'll be with you anytime you leave the house, got it?”

Shizuka was apparently expecting the intrusion into his bedroom, or at least wasn't all that perturbed by the interruption of what was apparently homework. So Kurogane judged by the spread of notes around the laptop on the desk, and the unimpressed face that teenager was giving him.

“Yeah, Grandpa. I got it.”

“Good. I want you to give Kurogane a quick rundown of your daily schedule before I finish showing him around the house.”

“Sure,” the boy said, turning fully around to face them better. “I leave for class at half seven, I'm in my last year so classes are over at about one pm. I have two really good friends that I normally spend time with after school. We go get a late lunch, or to the park, or whatever. I'm usually back here and studying or working on my university applications by about six.”

“Great,” Kurogane responded when the silence stretches long enough to indicate they were looking for him to say something. “I want to check out your security system before I leave for the day.” This was addressed to Doumeki Senior, who nodded and turned to exit the room to lead Kurogane forward.

“Nice to meet you,” the kid said as he left.

He grunted in response.

“Well, that's my grandson,” the older man said jovially. “I'm sure you two will get along fine.”

“Yeah. He's a piece of cake compared to my last client.”

Kurogane felt a chill of foreboding go up his spine when the old man started laughing at him.

“You'd think that, wouldn't you? Oh, good, here's the room we've set up for you to stay in.”

Kurogane tried to avoid assignments that needed round-the-clock live-in security. But he'd made an exception when he'd found out the client was only seventeen. He hadn't counted on the teenager being such a serious-looking, mature sort of kid. He seemed like the type to actually call somebody and report a concern if he had one.

Still, it wasn't so bad. His apartment was barely flirting with the concept of “home,” so staying in a swanky, roomy place like this wasn't exactly a hardship.

 

* * *

 

Kurogane watched, with a crushing sense of hopelessness, as Kimihiro ran into the road to chase a stray dog, and as Shizuka went barreling after him with muttered curses.

Then of course _he_ had to run out into traffic, because he was an idiot. This was not in his job description.

Both of the boys were fine, and nobody got hit by a car, so maybe this should be counted as a win. But Kurogane found it hard to categorize it that way, considering _he_ was the one who had to carry the dog to the veterinarian, and _he_ was the one who got stitches in his hand and a rabies shot.

And yet he honestly didn't mind.

Shizuka started making sense to him that day. The moment of clarity was when the vet said she had to put the dog down. Himawari started sobbing, Kimihiro went pale and teary, and Shizuka was right between them with an arm around each, calmly working out the details with the vet.

Yeah, he was pretty sure he understood the guy now.

 

* * *

 

“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” Doumeki Senior said, his face blotched with red as he paced back and forth across the expensive red-and-gold carpet.

“ _You_ ,” he said suddenly, spinning around to his grandson. “Lied to two men with guns and told them that you were Kimihiro and allowed them to kidnap you.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said stoically, looking his grandfather right in the eyes.

“And _you_ ,” he snapped, turning to face Kurogane, who stood quietly at parade rest about half a step back from Shizuka's position. “You followed them, crept into the house undetected, and instead of shooting them or calling the cops or some normal goddamn thing, decided that your best course of action would be to disarm them at _swordpoint_ , tie them up and leave them there? They have _already_ , while still _handcuffed in an interview room_ , professed their intent of suing for damages. My lawyers are gonna have a field day, and are going to bill me thousands of dollars to get you out of this, because _you_ have a sword fetish.”

Kurogane didn't want to risk pointing out that technically the man did not have to pay for Kurogane's legal representation. Instead, he said,

“In the interest of fairness, you did tell me that you hired me for this job because Shizuka had dangerous enemies. No one,” and here he paused for dramatic effect, and gave both Senior and Junior the biggest stink eye he could conjure up, “managed to tell me that the enemies were Shizuka's best friends.”

“If that's the line you're going with, it's probably better to say 'Nobody told me that Shizuka is his own worst enemy,” the teen offered without even cracking a smile.

It just made Doumeki Senior even more pissed off when Kurogane and the kid started busting a gut laughing, but really, everybody went home without a scratch on them so what was a few thousand in legal fees?

Okay, so Kurogane had a few scratches. And bruises. Contusions, even. But whatever, that's why he kept a first aid kit in his bathroom.

He didn't count on Shizuka following him in there.

“Uh, can a man not take care of his business in privacy?” Kurogane blustered at him.

Shizuka's answer was, “You've got blood on your shirt. It's yours. I'll help you clean up.”

There was no point denying it was his blood, and honestly he could use the help. He'd taken a bad hit to the ribs and was pretty sore.

They were both completely silent while Shizuka dabbed the wound with antiseptic cream and bandaged it up. He must have noticed that Kurogane was holding himself carefully, and got out the ace bandage to wrap around his ribs, too.

His hands were lingering too long, dragging over the skin of his stomach and back as he wrapped. Maybe he didn't mean anything by it. Kurogane didn't want to say anything. He didn't want to embarrass the kid if he didn't mean anything by it.

It felt a little too good. It had been a long time.

He wasn't a kid. He'd turned eighteen last week. He had beautiful eyes.

“I'm starving,” Kurogane said. It was midnight; the kidnapping had been right after the three friends got out of classes.

“Me, too,” Shizuka said, drawing his hands back.

“I can't cook.”

“Me either. We've got Hot Pockets. Want some?”

“Fuck yeah,” Kurogane answered, glad to leave this room. Very glad.

 

* * *

 

It was retribution for the foiled kidnapping, although that would likely never be proven.

Kurogane had settled into his routine of protecting Shizuka from himself. All three of the friends started university, and Kurogane didn't say a word about the length of his contract. He shadowed Shizuka on campus and even audited one of his more interesting classes.

He'd moved out of his apartment, without telling anyone in the Doumeki household. His room at the Doumeki place was as much as he really needed, and most of his stuff was there anyway. He started building up a savings account. He didn't know when he'd move on to the next assignment, but it was good to start this while he could. He wanted to retire early. Travel, maybe.

There were a lot of late nights. Bandaging up a host of minor injuries—scrapes Kurogane incurred saving Shizuka from falling over a bridge when Shizuka tried to save Himawari and wasn't strong enough; putting ointment on the sprained wrist Kurogane incurred catching Shizuka when he climbed a tree to get Himawari's cat and the branch broke; more ointment for the horrible bruising from a baseball bat he'd taken to the back when he'd gotten between a thug and Kimiro—he wanted to know why nobody had told him that Kimihiro's family was the one with the enemies. Maybe his family couldn't afford a bodyguard. It would have saved a lot of time and trouble if Doumeki Senior had just explained on the first day that he was actually just supposed to save Kimihiro from shit so Shizuka wouldn't have to.

There were a lot of Hot Pockets and toaster waffles and excuses to stay up when the rest of the house was quiet, when it was just the two of them.

They didn't talk much. It didn't seem necessary.

Then somebody got the drop on Kurogane, in the parking lot of the movie theatre just after watching an action movie.

He didn't think any of the others liked action movies. He strongly suspected that Shizuka had insisted on seeing that because he wanted to Kurogane to watch the movie with them, instead of standing in the lobby while the three friends watched something stupid.

They'd brushed hands, for a moment. Both reaching for popcorn. It was too cliché to allow, so they didn't come close to touching each other again while watching. But. More and more Kurogane was feeling like he was supposed to be beside Shizuka instead of behind him.

And then Kurogane stood vigilant by the car while the others got in. He walked round to get in the driver's seat. Himawari screamed.

Someone shot him.

He was really lucky they missed his head. He didn't feel lucky when he found out his shoulder was going to need three surgeries.

 

* * *

 

He woke up after the first surgery and Shizuka was sitting by his bed.

“... time izzit?” he muttered.

“Eight. You were out most of the day.”

He made a sticky noise and Shizuka thrust out a cup full of melting ice chips already swimming in tepid water.

“Ugh,” he muttered. Made a grab for the cup. Missed.

Shizuka put it to his lips without a word.

“Go home,” he grunted, when he was sated enough to figure out how to form words. “Nurses can do this.”

Shizuka grabbed a plastic bin, apparently observing Kurogane's face turn gray before Kurogane even felt the flood of saliva that signaled disaster.

He horked up the water he'd just drank, and groaned. He tried to make it sound angry instead of pitful. It was the most he could do in his own defense at the moment.

“You drank too fast,” Shizuka said mildly.

“Go get some fresh ice, dipshit,” Kurogane muttered.

Shizuka didn't move right away.

“They ain't gonna come back and shoot me _here_ ,” he pointed out.

“Yeah,” Shizuka muttered. “I know.”

He stood up. He leaned forward. He kissed Kurogane right on the goddamn mouth.

“I'll be right back,” he said.

Kurogane got out of the bed, head spinning and legs shaking, and went into the little bathroom to brush his teeth. Thank god somebody put toothbrush and paste in here. He attempted to deal with what had just happened in the few minutes he had available, but all he managed to actually coherently think was, _I'm gonna get fired._

Shizuka returned just as Kurogane was shuffling his way back to the bed. He sank down on it with another long, angry groan. He accepted an ice chip. The silence stretched.

“You call that a kiss?”

“That's all you're getting right now, barfmaster.”

“I brushed my teeth.”

“Nope,” Shizuka replied. “Still not happening. Not gonna risk it.”

“You're gonna be the death of me,” Kurogane sighed.

Shizuka frowned at that.

“Oh, come on, I didn't mean like _that_. I've been shot before, whatever. No big.”

Shizuka mulled this over.

“I brought Scrabble in case you get bored,” what was he finally said.

Kurogane threw an ice chip at him. “Just turn on the t.v. or something.”

 

 


	4. seven years, six months, and nine days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Tumblr user charcoal-soul -  
> "During his training years in Nihon, Kurogane meets an assassin on the roof that actually manages to get away before Kurogane can catch him. He might not mind too much, bc he actually met a cool guy training with the new Kyuudo recruits with some outstanding talent. Later on he catches the not so enthusiastic assassin at his second try, and it turns out to be the guy he almost dated/had an affair with."

Kurogane has been at Shirasagi castle for three months and two days.

He disobeys any summons from the Empress or her sister the Tsukuyomi.

His hands do not blister anymore after hours of practicing his sword grip.

Souma can still disarm him in less than 90 seconds.

 

* * *

 

Kurogane has been at Shirasagi castle for thirteen months and nineteen days.

He can disarm Souma in less than 90 seconds.

He cannot disarm the sword master yet but the ninjas who watch their bouts are whispering that he won their most recent fight.  They only whisper because the sword master will remember a slight during training.

The Tsukuyomi asks specifically for him to be among the guards who will escort her to a shrine, two days east of the castle, where she wants to pray to her ancestors.

Kurogane says he will go.

 

* * *

 

Kurogane has been at Shirasagi castle for two years, six months, and some days or weeks when he disarms the sword master during a practice session.

Kurogane is fifteen.

Tomoyo-hime looks sad when he brags about it.  It pisses him off.  Why shouldn’t she be glad that one of her regular guards is the best swordsman in the castle?

He tries to complain about it to some of the other ninjas, but they do not like to talk to him.  Souma says it’s because he’s rude and standoffish and critical and brutish.

Souma is not afraid of him.  Not yet.

 

* * *

 

Kurogane has been living at Shirasagi castle for about four years when they ask him to help the sword master train a handful of new recruits.  The sensei is getting too old to punish the green out of new ninja, and has taken to being religious when he is not whacking the most capable swordsman on the knuckles when they do anything less than perfect.

It only takes Kurogane about ten minutes to decide that three of the new ones are going to be next to useless.  They have enthusiasm but no real talent.  Hopefully they can be foisted off into poisons or spying or some such.  There is only one that he thinks has the heart for martial disciplines.

His name is Shizuka, and Kurogane only has to show him how to grip his sword correctly once.  He makes a lot of mistakes, but only once.  He always gets it right after Kurogane corrects him.

Kurogane says Souma can train the other three.  They’re not worth his time.

Shizuka isn’t as flattered as Kurogane thought he would be.

 

* * *

 

There have been rumours coming from their spies in the next province that Lady Kusakabe is planning to make a move.  The rumours say that she will be able to take the throne only by killing the empress and also her young sister.

Kurogane sleeps on the floor in front of the sliding paper door, just outside of Tomoyo-hime’s room.  It is cold and he does not care.  His fingers unconsciously caress the hilt of his sword as he dozes.

 

* * *

 

Shizuka is a nagging worry, like a hair caught inside the back of your shirt that you cannot ignore and cannot pull free.  That sensation like something is wrong even when nothing is.

The training they do is intense and Shizuka has an admirable focus.  Kurogane watches the lean, hard muscles in his arms get bulkier as they train, and approves.

They drink together, in the evenings.  They do not talk.  Kurogane is not good at conversation, and Shizuka only has jokes that Kurogane never laughs at.  It is strangely comfortable to communicate without talking.

Strangely so. Kurogane does not know what it means yet.

 

* * *

 

A muffled sound wakes him.  He finds that he is already in the Tsukuyomi’s bedroom, the paper door broken from his shove and his sword rising up already.

A dark shape with the face covered is in her room.

There is a section of paper screen cut out on the other side of the room, this assassin’s entrance.  So quiet that Tomoyo-hime didn’t even wake, not until the door crashed in.  She cringes back into the corner, her eyes sharp and looking for the moment when she can run from the room into safety without being caught in the fight.  She does not cry.

Kurogane heard the footstep, must have.  Something woke him.

He raises his sword and cries out mightily as he swings.  The assassin has a bow in one hand and a knife in the other.  The bow catches the sword, breaks, smashes against the masking cloth on the assassin’s face.  The knife flashes out to catch Kurogane’s arm, but Kurogane sweeps the sword again and blocks.

The assassin’s knife scrapes along the blade, and his other hand grabs at Kurogane’s wrist.

It shocks him, that the assassin manages to touch him.  He moves much faster than Kurogane expected.

The hand is rough and calloused.  There is heavy breathing, damp sweat … something about this makes it stir in his belly.  Maybe the darkness or even the knife, he doesn’t know.  He has not felt this until now.  But he knows what he is feeling.

He releases his wrist and his sword from the assassin’s control, and takes a step forward and he brings the sword down in a cut from above, bellowing. This person came here to kill the princess, and Kurogane will cleave him.

He ducks and he is out through the hole cut in the paper.

Kurogane gives chase, but his enemy is faster.

Other guards and ninjas come pouring and foaming like a sea wave behind him, and none of them are fast enough.  The assassin gets away.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Kurogane is relentless.

Shizuka knows what happened the night before, and does not say a word.  He bears it.  He bruises and his hair is flat and sticky on his head from sweat.

Kurogane goes in for the kill, not literally, it’s a wooden sword, but he is aiming for destruction, and Shizuka has only a moment.

He uses the moment to put his hand on Kurogane’s arm.

It is not a way to block or hold him, and his guard is down.  In that moment, Kurogane could knock his head in, and he is not doing anything to stop it.

His hand is hard, heated.  It feels … oh.

“If you kill me, you’ll have to go back to training the other new recruits,” Shizuka says.

Kurogane’s blood has left his head entirely and he barely hears the sarcasm.

 

* * *

 

They are in the bathhouse, looking into each other’s eyes.  Only at the eyes, and yet the other men who come in all find a reason to leave very quickly.

Their skin is gleaming in the low light, fragile curls of steam around them.

The sudden splashing sound is the only announcement that anything has changed, and then Kurogane falls onto Shizuka’s mouth and tastes it.  Shizuka grips his arms, his back, the curve of his ass.  He spins Kurogane around, shoves him up against a wall, panting.

Their skin is slick with heat and water, and Kurogane is not sure how old Shizuka is. His back is scraping on the wall.  Shizuka’s fingers grip his shoulder and turn him.  Face to the wall.

They are frantic and growling, both of them.  Their breathing mingled and heavy and unfinished in this wet air.  Kurogane’s fingers are tight in Shizuka’s short-cropped hair.

Shizuka is inside him, hard and hot and it hurts, it hurts it hurts but  _it is so good_

The muscles of his thighs tremble.  Shizuka’s hand is on him.  He does not want to be shaking, but he does and he groans and he curses.

Shizuka’s hands are surprisingly tender when compared to the movement of his hips.

 

* * *

 

Kurogane now sleeps inside the door to her room.  She looks so worried every night that he has taken to sitting next to her when she gets into her blanket, letting her feel more secure in knowing that her guard is watching. He does not lay down himself until she falls asleep.

He has begun wishing that there was someone else he could trust to rescue her if an assassin comes again.

He has never, ever wanted something enough that it interferes with his commitment to being the best in the palace.  But he and Shizuka have been together under a willow tree, behind the stables.  Once, just once, Kurogane wants to do it in a bed.

 

* * *

 

The princess is having nightmares.  At her own request, she does not want a lady’s maid to stay with her and soothe her when she wakes up.

She already has Kurogane, she explains.

He doesn’t know what she wants from him.  He’s there.  He’ll kill anyone who tries to harm her.  What more could she want, when she wakes up in the dark with a cry on her lips and her small hands clutching at her blanket?

But there is a night that he gets up from his place on the floor, sits down next to her, lets her grip his hand with hers.  He’s not happy about it, but he does it.

He dozes off, chin tucked down on his chest, unaware that he has fallen asleep sitting beside her.

The arrow embeds itself in his back

He cries out, jerking awake and not entirely sure of what has happened.

Tomoyo-hime is screaming.  He cannot breathe.

He gropes at the feeling of shock in his skin, feels the arrow, realizes.

The bow, the  _bow_ , how stupid they all have been.  He has been to her room, has seen the layout, has seen where she sleeps.  All he had to do was shoot an arrow straight through the flimsy wall.  If Kurogane had not been sitting there, just in front of her, she would already be dead.

He still does not understand how the assassin has done this.

Twice, he has gotten into the inner sanctum of the palace without a single guard noticing.  They are all on high alert, and someone didn’t  _notice_.

The only explanation is that the assassin is one of them.

Kurogane gives chase.  He does not care if he bleeds to death in the process.  He does not care that there is an arrow jutting from his back.  He runs with abandon.

He catches up.

He tackles the assassin to the ground, yanks his mask away from his face.

He realizes then that he should have guessed by now.  He should have known better.

“If you kill me,” Shizuka says slowly, with a hint of a smile on his face, “you’ll have to—”

Kurogane doesn’t even have his sword.  He grabs Shizuka by the hair and bashes his head against the floor until he is unconscious.

 

* * *

 

They will tell him that Shizuka’s grandfather is a prisoner of Lady Kusakabe and that this is the price of freeing him.  They will tell him that Shizuka had a slender, beautiful, blue-eyed lover at home who has the dreamsight.

But they will not tell him who actually executed the assassin.

They act like that is the worst piece of information they could give him.

They don’t know anything.

 

* * *

 

Kurogane has lived in Shirasagi Castle for four years and a few months when he asks to be stationed in the outer ring of the castle.  The first line of defense.  He tells them there will be no need for a second line if they will allow him this.

 

* * *

 

Kurogane has been at Shirasagi Castle for seven years, six months, and nine days when the Tsukuyomi tells him that she is sending him away.

He has not touched another person in three years and two months and one day.

He had thought that this would protect him from ever being betrayed again.

He never learns.


End file.
